SUNDAY SERMON
Second Sunday after Christmas, Year A
January 4, 2004
Gospel: Matt 2:13-15,19-23
This Gospel story is a story about faith. If Joseph could tell us the story
himself from his point of view he might tell it this way:
"It was all so strange, so unexpected, so mysterious--it was hard to put it in perspective, hard to get our arms around. The difficult trip to Bethlehem and that first frantic night trying to find a place to stay had all but been forgotten in the joy of our new son. Certainly, it was odd that shepherd boys showed up claiming they had been told by angels that a savior was born. Finally that hard night was over, and we all slept.
The baby was healthy and strong, and Mary was gaining her strength every day. We were both eager to return home, to start our new life as a family. In fact, as we were making plans to leave, elegantly dressed men appeared at the opening to the cave, asking if they might come in. One of them said they had been guided to this place from Persia by a new star, a star that had appeared in the constellation that represented Israel. It was, they said, a sign that our baby was to be king of the Jews.
Mary and I were stunned. Again. We had talked about her visitation by an angel and what she had been told. And my visit by an angel. Then there was her cousin Elizabeth's comments about the unborn baby. We were still trying to figure that all out. Now, this. The visitors were incredibly generous, giving us gold, frankincense and myrrh. After they left we could hardly stop talking about how wonderful life was going to be and how happy we were. Once we got home, I could use the gold to buy some new tools and materials. We could even go ahead and move from my father's house into our own house. Everything was looking perfect.
Though we still didn't really understand how we were chosen for this honor or what it all meant, we were determined to take the responsibility seriously. We were going to make a good life for our son. I would work hard, develop my craft so people would clamber for me to do their work. I'd have to turn people down, I'd be so busy! Jesus would have whatever he needed. He'd grow strong and one day, take over the business. Mary and I would sit on our roof in the evening and feel satisfied. We went on like this for hours. Finally, after we'd talked ourselves hoarse with our dreams, and after Mary fed Jesus again and changed his diaper, we fell into a contented and deep sleep.
That's when everything began to unravel. I had a dream in which an angel told me that King Herod knew about Jesus and wanted to kill him. We were to leave immediately for Egypt and stay there until the angel came again. I woke up in a sweat. I didn't wake Mary at first, because I needed to think. I was sick. Everything we had dreamed about was just that now-a dream, a broken dream. I remember the rabbi saying once, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. I guess he was having a good chuckle at our expense that night. Finally, I woke Mary and told her what happened and that we had to leave and leave right now.
She wept. I didn't blame her. With the new baby, she needed my mother to teach her all the things mothers need to know. How was she going to manage now? What did she know about taking care of babies? She had helped with her brothers and sisters, but it's not the same. She cried for her mother and father. Would she ever see them again? What of Elizabeth and her baby? She said she was scared. I told her it was going to work out. I didn't tell her then, but I was scared too and I didn't really know if it'd work out or not.
We had few belongings. Most everything we owned was back home with our parents. Thank goodness we had the visitor's gifts. We wouldn't have to beg. But, Egypt? It's a long walk, a dangerous walk. We could be killed or robbed. And how was I going to support my family in Egypt? Could I find work in my trade there? How long would the gold last? What could I sell the spices for? As we gathered our few belongings and prepared to leave, I remembered Father Abraham and how when he was still Abram, God came to him too. Like Mary and me, God told him to set off on a journey, a journey to a foreign land. He was old and settled in his ways. But, still he went. It must have been very hard for him. He had to uproot a much bigger family than I have. I must have the faith he had-that's what I told myself as we hurried through the dark, quiet streets of Bethlehem."
When you think about it, what Joseph did that night so long ago is astonishing. A young boy of 16 or 17, a new husband and father. He begins a journey of hundreds of miles into a land about which he knows nothing-nothing except the Hebrews were once slaves there. He has only a small stake to help them journey and get established. And so much could go wrong in so many ways. Surely, along the way he was discouraged and afraid. Surely, he thought about going home instead. But he didn't. Father Abraham had been faithful in obeying God and Joseph would be as well. No matter that his dreams were dashed; no matter that life in Egypt was probably difficult; no matter that just as he was settled there, he had to return to Israel and start again. Whatever was asked, he did.
Like Joseph and Mary, you and I are called on by the same God to be men and women of faith in our day. We may find that what we are called to is as unsettling and demanding as what they were called to do. We may be called to leave the comfort of our dreams for an uncertain future. To leave our settled and predictable lives for the unsettled and unpredictable. We may find ourselves in what seems to be an alien land. But, God does not call us capriciously into the unknown. There is always a purpose grander than we can see. As Joseph might have said toward the end of his life:
"We did as we were asked without knowing the outcome beforehand. We learned later that our obedience saved Jesus' life from the slaughter Herod visited on Bethlehem's innocents. At first that was enough. It made all the hard times more than worthwhile. But that was nowhere near the end of the story. Our faithful acts kept Jesus alive so he could bring a new word from God to all people. A word that would mean abundant life for all that believed. His faithfulness would cost him his life, but in the end, his resurrection would give life to all of us. When we laid the blanket on the donkey's back and began that terrible journey to Egypt, we could not know the end. But people of faith never do. They live as we lived, with hope and assurance that God will prevail in some way we could never have foreseen."
Joseph might say one more thing to us: "As this year ends and a new one dawns, may your faith enable you to begin a journey whose end you can not know, but in which God will act in a mighty way."